


I'm here for you

by Not_The_Gods_Favorite



Series: Loving in times of craziness [1]
Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes - Arthur Conan Doyle
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Cute John Watson, Cuties, Developing Sherlock Holmes/John Watson, Eventual Smut, Fluff, Happy Ending, Hospitals, John is a Good Friend, Kissing, M/M, Married Couple, Nice Sherlock, PTSD John, Roommates, Sherlock Being Sherlock, Sherlock Has Issues, Sherlock Holmes Has Feelings, St Bartholomew's Hospital
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-12
Updated: 2017-03-12
Packaged: 2018-10-02 10:47:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,780
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10216322
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Not_The_Gods_Favorite/pseuds/Not_The_Gods_Favorite
Summary: John decides to get into a hospital to deal with his PTSD and the nightmares that that created.He thinks he would be bored to death, that's until he meets his roommate Sherlock Holmes.





	

John walked into the hospital, heavy feeling in his chest, body quivering at the always low temperature of the buildings. He assured himself for tenth time that hour that this was for good, obviously wasn't working as his mind still yelled at his saying to go and find an adventure and have the thrill that the war had give him until he got shot, therefore for the army he was put off league, so he went back home tired, with a empty feeling in his heart and a few of bothersome wounds. 

Just a few months had passed in his boring and domestic life when the nightmares begun. The first one was a play of kids, just a few seconds of struggle and he was awake again. But in the way John's luck was running, soon he was having more trouble to wake up, getting to the point of spending one night what he thought was five entire minutes, not to forget that he had the whole aftermath of the feeling that squeezed his heart and made his head ache. 

And he was there, three months after the first nightmare, walking into a psychiatric hospital, just because he had a little -not so little- crisis in the only job that his record could allow. He got the recommendation, and later the order to go to see someone. 

The lady from the hospital had guides him into the psychiatric area, thanks to the wonderful record that he had they thought immediately that he would be totally fitting for the psychiatrist and no the psychologist. 

Now he was walking the last of the steps to the real area in which it was the reception table and some couches and a hall that lead to the actual main room with more couches and several kinds of seats, tables and some table games, next to that room was the dinning room, and to the other aide were the rooms. They had to share rooms and John hoped that his roommate were just a bit normal. 

As he finally pushed the doors open and stepped in the room, he felt as the world was on his shoulders. John swallowed hard and walked valiantly to the table. 

"John Watson, its my checking in day" he grinned, trying to dissipate the tension on his mind. 

The lady at the table looked kindly at him and checked his information in her computer. 

John tapped his foot impatiently, waiting for everything to be in order. 

The lady smiled again and slipped of behind the table to lead him to the main room. 

A quick scanning of the woman told John that she was tinting her hair and that she didn't like the seemingly stiff nurse clothes. But there, just above the last button of her vest, a black whistle jumped at sight against her white shirt. 

He didn't thought what he did, it was pure instinct, the reminiscent of the war. He ran, He passed the white doors as the whistle ringed in his ears and the muffled sound of footsteps behind him. He way out of the game very soon as two guards seemingly impossible tall and bursted out of nowhere catch him and pulled him back to the area, John fighting, shaking to get out of their grip. 

He saw as they dragged him into the main room and he shook hard, freeing himself of one of the guards, who tightened his grip as he catch him again, the kind lady of the reception walked in his vision field carrying a syringe. 

"calm down John, everything is going to be alright" then she pushes the needle in his neck, erasing his mind and presence of the world momentarily. 

When John finally started getting back to the conscious world, the world seemed too soft and warm, and everything was covered with a dancing green dust that smelled of fresh mint and a slight touch of tobacco. But the real world isn't like that, John snapped his eyes open, closing them immediately at the pain in the back of them and in all his head and because of the bright light that entered from a window. 

He groaned an turned to his side, facing away the light, mumbling to himself that he didn't have to drink that much. But then the realization hit him at the same time that a low baritone voice talked smoothly from the other side of the room. 

"you definitely are not hungover, just getting off the tranquilizers that they use on runaways like you" 

John turned slowly, coming to a sitting position on his mattress, squinting at the light. 

"you are special in some way, there been any trying to scape since I'm here or since the past three years... my contact may have missed some information or its plainly you the only one who got the guts to try and face those guards" the low voice had tinge of amusement, mingled with the concern of someone who thought he knew something for certain and now he was being refuted. 

John opened his mouth to introduce himself but the man in front of him just held up his hand. 

"I know you're John Watson, I read it in your file, I know its private but I ought to know who was going to be my roommate, so I could take some precautions" 

"there's any?" 

"not yet, your file only described that you were a retired Capitan of the army, out of it by getting shot, PTSD and strong nightmares that lead into a panick crisis of some sort during your job as a doctor in Saint Bartholomew's hospital, you got a court order to came here because the patient you were attending sued you so the sentence included you going to see someone to help you with that matter, that's it" 

"so, who're you?" 

"I'm Sherlock, Sherlock Holmes" the man grinned and  extended a hand, John shook it. 

Then, and just then he noticed the white clothes that the man in front of him wore, all wrapped up in a blue coat. 

Sherlock noticed his gaze and signaled to the foot of John's bed where it lay a white clothing, the same as Sherlock but obviously smaller due to be at least a head shorter than him.

John stood carefully, testing the resistance of his legs. He moved as faster as his newly headache allowed him to the personal bathroom that were the only door painted of blue instead of white.

He quickly changed his clothes and pulled over his head again his beige jumper. Carefully folding his clothes walked out of the bathroom. 

There in the door stood the lady from the reception with a plastic box labeled John H. Watson. 

"Hello John, I hope you're feeling better... now I need you to put any dangerous object in the box, and I'm afraid that your phone had to go here too" the tone which was supposed to be comforting felt like a threat to John, who just nodded and dropped every penny he got in his jacket and pants pockets. Also threw his flat's keys and his wallet. 

"John, I need you to put your hone here, please" the voice became urgent but John put on his most innocent face and looked at her. 

"I don't own one now, I accidentally broke it o-on my cri-crisis" he muttered low, so low he was almost afraid that that lady wouldn't hear him. 

She smiled again and closed the box. 

"it's okay now John, here you'll get better" she uttered and leaved the room. 

John sighed and walked to the door, now his brows forrowed, pressing his back to the door he slipped his phone from the elastic of his pants and activated the plane mode, and turning the device off.

"you got talent, I've seen many people say the same lie and all of them got reduced and checked for the device, even myself... those guards are not very gentle, aren't they?" he chuckled and John smiled back at him. 

"since now you have to have the best of the behaviors if you want to keep them for checking your personal stuff and taking away your jumper" he pointed to the small night table that was at the left side of John's bed and then to John. "those are rewards for good behavior" 

John nodded and quickly hide the phone at the end of the drawer, covering it with his clothes. 

He sat at the edge of his bed, wondering what would he do with all this new spare time. 

John turned at Sherlock, now the mam was laying on his back, eyes closed and hands folded under his chin. The vivid image of a genius thinking. 

"so, why are you here?, if I can ask of course" John looked down and to Sherlock again, noticing as he had one eye open, now John could notice the magnificent bright pale green eyes that the man had. 

His breath stuck imperceptibly in his lungs as Sherlock opened the other and closed both again.

"oh, well, I'm a high functioning sociopath" 

"yeah?, and how that works?" 

Sherlock grinned, extended a hand to John and stood quickly. 

"come with me" he whispered 

John followed the taller man out of the psychiatric area to the principal waiting room.

Just at the end of the hall he stopped suddenly and buttoned his coat, running his fingers through his black messy curls. He turned to John and fixed his jumper. 

"now, do I look like a normal human?" 

"yes, as normal as you could look, now if you're asking if you look like a madman then no, you don't" 

"great, because you look like a nurse" 

John laughed at the commentary and Sherlock smiles slightly. 

The taller man nodded as they walked to one of the seatings. 

"I can deduce people just by watching at them, I'm going to show you" 

"okay, I hope there's something good"

"you see that women over there? the one with the red coat, she's having and affair, afraid of being pregnant of her little secret, she's doubting if it's worth staying, dye her hair, not usually concerned about her appearance, new clothes or very little worn, but with dust and very stiff, probably on a hanger in the bottom of the closet, so the affair and the marriage are long, long enough to stop caring, I know she has an affair cause there's the tan mark, and also I saw her hide the ring when we arrived the room, being pregnant, she's rubbing her belly constantly and its bigger than the fat that she could have there for her complexion"  Sherlock carried the last vocal out of his mouth in a half bored tone and smirked to John.

John looked at Sherlock amazed

"you know that that's awesome" John stared at Sherlock's pale eyes, smiling. 

"people usually don't like it and call me a freak, they just leave" 

John sighed and changed his gaze to his foot tapping the cold tile. 

"you know what Sherlock? the little time that I know you, you seemed to be very nice and I'd like to be your friend, that means that you won't get rid of me easily, and I'll be there for you, for whatever you may need" 

"it's your choice, I can't convince you or the contrary, you're very stubborn" 

John chuckled and leaned back, slightly stretching his muscles. 

"I'm a bit hungry, where can I get some food?" John asked absentmindedly as he stood and walked slowly to the psychiatric area. 

Sherlock grinned and stood as well and walked towards the main room. 

\------------------

Sherlock heard a lot of noise outside, maybe a fight or something of that sort. 

However, he flinched as the guards slammed open the door y dragged someone unconscious to the empty bed next to his. 

"Sherlock, this is your new roommate, please be gentle with him" the nurse muttered, smiling at Sherlock, totally fake. 

Sherlock smiled sarcastically and nodded. 

"of course Sophie, this one would not run" he folded his hands and glared at the passed out man. 

The guards and the nurse leaved the room, closing the door after them. 

The blonde man laid under the covers and apparently tried to scape, those guards just appear when someone tries to run away. 

He was special. He needed to know more of this man. Sherlock calculates that he'll be out for about half an hour, so he stood and walked to the reception checking if Sophie was around. 

With the coast clear he jumped to the chair and quickly searched for the newest check in. 

John H. Watson 

When he had enough information he walked nonchalantly to his room. 

He sat in his bed, back against the walk as he studied more profoundly at John.

The blond,no, golden hair, with some gray strains practically shined at the light running from the window, the features showed a handsome but tired looking man. No doubt that tiredness had the PTSD as the main reason. 

The man also seemed a bit older than Sherlock, but about his thirties. 

Sherlock was lost in his mind trying to catch the more information that were possible, so the movements from the other man surprised him. It was just 20 minutes. 

The man groaned and turned to his side. Sherlock grinned and talked to him. 

    xxx 

They sat at Sherlock's table, no one else sit there. And now he was sharing it with John. 

He was all laugh and cuteness, Sherlock couldn't make out exactly how could a man like this go to war. 

John was eating a sandwich of strawberry jam and some of the fruity substance had slipped out of the bread and on John's lower lip. 

For Sherlock Holmes, the world narrowed to that only pinkish drop resting there. The sounds were muffled and his breath hitched when John peeked out his tongue and cleaned the jam away. 

"Sherlock? are you listening?" 

"oh, eh... no, sorry John but... this happens sometimes I just get lost in my thoughts, this is one of the reasons why people don't like me" Sherlock sighed, he didn't even know why he felt compelled to apologize for something that in other time he would just waved the person off claiming that it was boring. But John was different. 

He felt different about John. 

He listened to every word that John said, smiling at the man in front of him.

They returned to the room and in the way picked a board game. 

Half and hour after Sherlock was starting to get angry as John was owning half and a bit more of the board of their Monopoly game.

"Sherlock, you got to stop trying to deduce my moves, or the dice, they are not going to put on some kind of magic and obey your commands" 

Sherlock just glared up at him, immediately turning back to the board, grunting as if could help him in some way. 

"you could be great at poker, have you played it before?" 

Sherlock shook his head. John smiled, the other man raised his eyebrows questioningly. 

"me neither, I've never got the technique" John huffed a laugh and Sherlock couldn't help but think that John giggling was the cutest thing I'm the world. 

They talked til the sun had made his trip in the sky and now it was hiding in the horizon. 

They walked out for dinner and Sherlock just grabbed some rice, a few leaves of lettuce, and what seemed to be apple juice. John filled his plate with almost every thing that was available and the kitchen lady smiled at him, be returned the smile and walked over to Sherlock's table. 

Sherlock cursed himself for paying so much attention to John. His brother's voice echoing in his head 'caring is not an advantage' 

They ate mostly in silence, but the room wasn't even close to a murmuring. Loud voices calling from the other end of the room echoing in the walls. 

When they finished their meals and had all their trash picked went to the room again. 

John immediately leaned, closing his eyes but not sleeping, in his bed and Sherlock used this opportunity to check out the other man without being catched. 

The blond skin was tanned, and seemed soft just as soft as his hair could be. 

Suddenly, he was longing to run his hands through golden hair, and caress that skin. 

Sherlock shook his head, curly locks bouncing around. On his side, John sighed deeply and stood, pulling the jumper avoe his head, messing his hair. He folded the item and laid it on top of his nightstand. 

"well, I'm tired so... good night Sherlock" and laid under the covers, nosing the pillow. 

Sherlock stared for five minutes and heard as John was snoring quietly. 

He smiled, a happy smile, not fake or sarcastic, happy. Something inside him warmed up. 

Sherlock frowned, and rushed silently outside the room, to the phone they had. 

He dialed the number quickly, the beeping tone just sounded twice before the answer came. 

"Sherlock, how are you?" 

"totally not fine, I've a roommate" he sighed, feeling as the anxiety crawled under his skin.

"I told them to don't do that, don't worry, I'll fix it immediately" the voice said with a light tone.

"Mycroft no, is not that, he's perfect, that's the problem... h-he said he wanted to be my friend," Sherlock's voice trembled, "and I accepted, but I been staring at him for more seconds that the platonic way, and I'm scared Mycroft... I can't let it happen again" the words came out quickly and frightened.

A heavy sigh crossed the line.

"Yes, I understand Sherlock... if you need me to do an intervention and change something call me, okay?" 

"yes Mycroft, I just thought you needed to know this in case something happened" 

"nothing is going to happen, Sherlock" the voice cracked slightly. 

"I can't assure you anything" his voice was filled with pain

"well, then tell your friend so he can help you" almost angry answer, trying not to show weakness. Sherlock keep doing it, analyzing everything.

"he has PTSD, enough problems, I don't want to bother him" he huffed

"what's his name? I'm going to give you a complete folder with his information" 

"his name is John, but I don't need that, not this time... I'm going to do the things right" 

"the way you want it, brother dear" 

"good bye Mycroft" 

"good bye Sherlock, be good" 

Sherlock chuckled and hanged the phone. Now the hole in his chest wasn't that big. 

His breath was evened and slowly walked back to his room, dragging his foot in the tiles. 

John was in his fifth dream when Sherlock stood next to his bed, removing in one swift movement his blue coat. 

Sherlock took off his slippers and crawled under the blankets. Stating at the sleeping figure of John Watson, wondering how such a nice human wanted to be friends with him?. 

With that thoughts on mind, drifted off, onto Morpheus arms. 

   xxx 

The morning next didn't come by the light hitting his eyes as usual. A muffled voice came form the other bed. 

John. 

Sherlock sat in his bed looking at him. 

His eyes were wide open and his skin was covered in sweat. His voice murmuring to himself just the same two words. 

"it's gone, it's gone, it's gone" his blue eyes shined but they were absently staring into the nothingness. 

"John?" 

He jumped, stared at Sherlock, and began to tremble. 

Sherlock didn't know what to do, but memories of his brother comforting him after one of his crisis came to his mind.

He quickly jumped to the other bed and hugged John tightly. John hide his face in Sherlock's chest, and the taller man only thought of resting his head atop of John's head. 

Sherlock's mind wandered over all the possibilities that involved John's body heat. Every one of them were very interesting to explore. 

John eventually has fallen asleep again and Sherlock quietly placed him down and walked back to his bed, falling asleep to dreams of golden hair, laughs and warmth. 

\-------------- 

When John waked, he felt like he was on a dream. The corridors of his old school in front of him. 

Sound coming from a corner, he followed the sound and found his old school mate Phillip Anderson beating up someone with his gang. 

"oh, look at me I'm Sherlock Holmes and I can say who you are and I'm a freak" Anderson mocked and just there he could see who was being beaten. 

It was Sherlock, 20 years younger but him. 

John was about to scream at them but he woke abruptly. A bumping in the door. 

Sherlock was already on his way to open it. 

The nurse from the other day was there. 

"I need to take John to his visit to the Doctor Conrad, that was for 9 a.m and it's 11" 

John practically jumped out of his bed, grabbed his slippers and rushed to the bathroom.  He didn't remember anything remotely close to a visit to a doctor that soon.

Two minutes after he was walking next to the nurse, Sophie, who was telling him that this, his first session, was going to be a knowing one, so the doctor would know with what, and who as John mentally added, was dealing with. 

John didn't really listened to the doctor, he just stared out, looking at a tall tree in the hospital's gardens. 

His mind running faint memories of his encounters with Sherlock, he never knew the kid by name, the name just made a figure, long forgotten for years of distance. 

Now, something must have triggered a neuron inside his brain and the connection between the figure and the name was fixed. 

But, he couldn't place very well in what part of his life Sherlock has been. 

The doctor, noticed his absence and just scribbled something in a notebook. Probably they'll have to see more often that the first planned. 

John, leaving his thoughts asked if he could leave. As the doctor nodded he stood and walked back to his room. 

Sherlock was there, looking to the light entering form the window. 

John's mind recognized that gaze, he had seen it before. 

Sherlock looked back at him and his eyes opened wide. 

John stumbled forward him, his vision blurry, just mumbling one word all over again till the world for him was black.

   xxx 

Everything was so bright, the sounds were muffled. 

The light blinded John for a few seconds, he was in a bar, and someone was looking at him. He smiled. 

Next thing he knew it was he was being pressed against a wall and kissed roughly. 

He grasped tightly the stranger's coat, but then it was not a stranger. 

It was Sherlock, pushing him against a wall, practically slamming their hips and mouthing at his neck. 

"Sherlock, Sherlock, Sherlock" John panted, tangling his fingers in the black curls, pressing him closer. 

He felt as the other man grinned against his skin. His long fingers caressed John's ribs, traced his hips and skated over the bulge in his jeans. 

John moaned, he bucked his hips closer and tugged Sherlock for another kiss. 

Again everything became very bright and John lost the sensations surrounding him. 

He waked, he was on a hospital bed, his mind flooded with memories, the way he knew Sherlock in school, that night in the bar the year before John went to the army. That's where Sherlock Holmes fitted in his life, one and only capable of making his knees tremble and butterflies tickle his stomach. 

He became aware of his surroundings, the beeping at his side was already making him sick. He checked the tubes in his arm and bended it slightly, checking the flexibility of the needle. 

Everything seemed to right, his vital signs, his arterial pressure. 

Outside it was dark, and the calendar in the wall said it was friday, he remembered that his appointment with the doctor was the tuesday... he had been out for 3 days. 

He panicked a bit, monitor beeping faster. 

He forced himself to stay calm and breath normally. 

John tried to sleep, tomorrow he'll be back to his room. 

Back to Sherlock and to finally know what happened.

      xxx 

John opened his eyes as a strong light invaded the room. He tried todo see who was getting in. 

"hello John, I'm the doctor Levive, you blacked out and were out for bout three days" 

John nodded feeling his throat dry. He sat up and grabbed the glass on the table at his side. 

"since you seemed to be okay, and the black out was just a side effect of your condition, in a few minutes I'll let you go. Your clothes are in that chair... ah, and your roommate was very worried of your condition, he'll be glad to see you" 

John nodded as the doctor checked some things and leaved the room. 

Seconds after, a nurse walked in and took the tubes, putting band aids on the small perforations. When she left John striped himself of the awful hospital robe and slipped in the cozy cotton of his clothes. He had a dark blue jumper that he didn't recognize but a note was attached to it. 

"John, I thought that you probably would like to have more than one jumper so I contacted someone and there it is... I hope you like it" 

    -SH 

John grinned, Sherlock really was worried about him. 

Sherlock... the memories rushed back on his mind and he doubted if he should say to Sherlock his memory, but if he remembered him but didn't say a thing, wouldn't that meant that he wasn't interested in the past?. 

John pushed those thoughts to the end of his mind and rushed to his room.

He bursted in, running to Sherlock and hugging him despite of his faint knowledge of his dislike for human contact. 

Surprisingly, Sherlock hugged back. 

"John... I'm glad you're fine, you scared me to death when you fainted and almost hit your head whit the board of the bed. 

John smiled, yeah, of course Sherlock was a sociopath. 

"are you sure you are a sociopath?" 

"yeah, pretty" 

"you care too much for being one" 

Sherlock smiled to him. John stood awkwardly. 

"eh, John... I've to say something" 

"yes, Sherlock?"

"I  got a vague memory of like... six years ago, it was my last year of school and I went out to a bar, I found you there and it's quite plausible that we shaggered that night" 

John nodded. Giggling softly. 

"I was in my first year free, after that I got into the army" 

"I wasn't even 18," he giggled " and you were 19" 

"okay, let's put it in the list of illegal things that I've done" 

"you've done illegal things?" 

"you are not the only one with a dizzy teenage years" 

They laughed, loving the sound of the others laugh.

Sherlock unconsciously leaned closer and captured John lips with his, the kiss was slow and chaste. Just lips brushing against others. 

They parted, breathing a bit heavily.

"you want to cuddle? I've heard that that's quite comfortable" 

John didn't thought twice before he was slipping next to Sherlock and nosing at his neck, falling asleep. 

Sherlock watched him for a good ten minutes, admiration all over his face, eyes shining with a warm feeling that he had the knowledge of being assigned to love... it felt good. 

Those words keep bouncing on his mind till he fell asleep as well, arm over John, gripping protectively.

\-----------------

John never thought that Sherlock could be that cuddly. Neither that he would find real pleasure in physic contact, even if it was just John. 

It was been three months ago that they went over everything that had happened to them since that night in the bar. 

John confessed that he had felt attracted to Sherlock in his teenage years and that has been the main reason to go and do something with him. 

Sherlock scoffed annoyed and just then John realized he had said 'had been attracted'. He apologized immediately and out of habit kissed him, just two seconds after he pulled away and muttered a apologize. 

But Sherlock pulled him back and they kept kissing till they were halfway undressed. But there was a knock in the door and Sherlock's brother voice called. 

John eyes widened and grabbing his shirt and jumper rushed to the bathroom silently. 

Sherlock cleared his throat and pulled his shirt. 

"come in" 

John heard the door open and the clicking of shoes. 

Muffled voices and the light laugh of the older of the Holmes. 

Two minutes after the door closed and he peeked through a crack in the door and tiptoed to Sherlock's bed. 

They didn't move for another half an hour. 

They relation based on this kind of things; cuddling, kissing and simply being hold by the other, feeling the warmth of the body next to theirs. 

Sherlock was being more human if it can be said, or at least showing his feelings. John was happy for him. 

One day, Sherlock told him to put on his clothes -his civilian clothes- and dragged him out of the hospital. 

"don't worry, my brother will take care of this" 

They walked to a corner and hailed a cab, jumping in it. 

The drive was silent and when they stopped, John realized that they were in front of a little restaurant. 

"Speedy's"

John thought if Sherlock liked it, the place must be good. They slipped in and walked to a table in the back. 

They did small chat meanwhile the food arrived and during all the eating. 

When John finished, Sherlock stood and paid for the food and signaled John to follow him. 

They walked out and to the door next. 

Sherlock fished a key from his pocket and opened the door, he hold it, John walked in muttering a thanks. 

Sherlock rushed in and quickly climbed the stairs to the flat. 

The place, was a organized mess, but seemed so cozy and comfortable. 

Sherlock smiled and pushed John through a hall and into what looked like his room. 

"I wanted to our first time to be in a nice place, after dinner... like the normal people... you like those things so..." Sherlock stuttered, that wasn't normal "I tried to make it the best for you" he whispered lowering his head. 

John couldn't be more happy, Sherlock peeked at him through messy curls and smiled weakly. 

John smiled, smiled and hugged Sherlock tightly, reaching for his lips. 

They kissed slow, no worries, they had all the time of the world, sharing in this kiss all their love for each other, their moves and caresses telling the other how much they were loved and cared. 

John was the first that fell in the bed, huffing out a breath with Sherlock's weight above him. 

John grinned slightly, leaning to catch Sherlock's lips once again and kiss them more passionately, softly nibbling at his lower lips drawing some moans and little shivers from Sherlock's body, he pulled the coat that Sherlock always wore and his hands roamed the back of the curly man. 

Sherlock smiled too and stripped John of his jumper, tossing the fabric away. 

Quick hands undid belts and opened buttons, they stood quiet for a moment, staring in the others eyes. 

Sherlock was the first to act. He opened John's shirt and quickly undid his. He looked at John, silently asking for permission, when John nodded, he pushed down his pants and adoringly caressed his legs. Sherlock stood, and pushed down his own pants, jumping over John again.

They didn't rush anything, everything was made with a ever present caring and nearly reverent love. 

xxxxxxxxxxx 

When John waked up the next morning, he panicked for a heartbeat, then his mind went back to the last night events and a big smile was on his face. 

He couldn't be more happy. 

Sherlock tightened his grip in his hips and John chuckled. He adored the feeling of the heat of Sherlock's body. 

John turned slowly, facing Sherlock's chest, inhaling his scent. Sherlock groaned softly and a leg was over John hip, somewhat pulling him closer. 

As he noticed that going back to sleep wasn't a option, John started making patterns in Sherlock's skin. 

Fingertips brushed feather like in the pale surface, and John couldn't think of other place he rated to be now. 

\--------------------------

John looked at his reflex, he was smiling. His fingers brushed a wrinkle and straightened his bowtie. 

He was ready. 

Sherlock for his side was nervously running his hands through his hair. Trying to even his breath. 

They walked to the altar and said their yes. They kissed each other lovingly. 

"you have no idea of how much I love you"

"that's good John, if I knew, probably we never would be seen out of bed" 

They both chuckled as they continued dancing to their first waltz. 

They got to their new house. 221B Baker street. 

"Sherlock, be careful, I don't wanna fell down the stairs" 

"it won't happen John" 

"don't make me wanna kiss you with your totally caring behavior" John teased as he gripped tightly Sherlock's suit jacket. 

They were the happiest couple that anyone ever seen. 

One year after they wedding, they decided to adopt a little girl. 

"if you want the ragdoll, then don't throw it" 

The doll hit Sherlock in the face and fell the the floor. 

He frowned. 

"what happened Sherlock?" 

"she threw the doll at my face" he pouted, looking at John innocently. 

John giggled and kissed his cheek. 

Everyday was a new adventure., andSherlock loved adventures and solving crimes... and well, John helped him to don't get himself in many troubles.

"Sherlock!?, are those human eyeballs in the fridge?" 

"nop, not at all" Sherlock closed the fridge's door and smiled at John. 

~~~~~~~~~~ 

"I swear Sherlock, if I have to shoot someone again you'll never see me around you in cases" 

"John don't be over dramatic, besides, you love being here with me"

The girl had two magnificent parents. 

"Dad, a boy likes me and..." 

"what had he done for you?" 

"eh, once he gave me a flower" 

"he's not worth of your love" John peeked from the kitchen "I've shot people for your Dad Rosie" 

"Yes, listen to your Dad, he's right" Sherlock said as his eyes switched form Rosie to John.

They were always happy. 

THE END

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading.


End file.
